A/N: I'm so excited to bring to you the sequel to Suicide Circus! (Note: this is a sequel. If you have not read Suicide Circus, you're still welcome to read this, but you won't understand a thing that's going on.) Today marks the two-year anniversary of the publication of Suicide Circus, so I felt it would only be appropriate to begin the sequel on the same day.

Several disclaimers: 1) I just want everyone to be aware that I actually love all the characters of Fairy Tail, and my treatment of the characters in this fanfiction is by no means an indication of my feelings towards them. There are a lot of characters I dearly love who I nonetheless kill off or portray as bad guys, so please don't be offended if a character you like is cast in such a way. 2) This story will still contain gore and horror! If you aren't a fan of the genre, please don't read this, for your own sake. 3) There will probably be some lemons at some point, so reader discretion is advised.

Questions, critiques and suggestions are welcome. :)

Chapter One – Still Chained

The hum and bustle of the crowds dragged me in as I walked along the cobblestone street with a basket over my arm. All around me, people busily pushed past or stopped to fill their baskets with goods from the stalls that lined the street. To my right, a man cried out to advertise the fresh fish he was selling. Somewhere up ahead on my left, a woman shouted at anyone who would listen about the fine linens she displayed, "imported directly from Minstrel," the kingdom directly to the east across the Strait of Fiore. An extremely wealthy kingdom, one could be certain that goods produced in Minstrel would be of high quality.

Today, I was here for neither fish nor linen. Sugar, eggs, flour…I was out for the makings of a cake. The sugar was already sitting in a parchment bag in one corner of my basket, as were two apples I had seen and purchased for Lucy. After all, everything I was buying today was in preparation for her birthday.

I deftly made my way through the crowd to the stand with sacks of flour stacked on top, palming the exact number of coins I would need for one bag. After handing the lady the coins, I hoisted the sack over my shoulder and carried on with my mission. Various other ingredients made their way into my basket, until finally I stopped in front of the stall with the final element: strawberries. Just as I was sorting through the succulent red berries for the finest of the bunch, a commotion stirred in the crowd from my left, pushing its way towards me. Irritated, I slid my coins across the wood to the elderly man behind the counter, filling a bag with strawberries and stowing it in my basket alongside the eggs.

"Somebody stop that boy!" a man bellowed over the murmurs and gasps of the parting crowd. A small, dirty boy burst through the bodies crowding the market, a loaf of bread clutched tightly to his thin chest. Over the tops of people's heads, I could see a large man with ruddy cheeks and wild gray hair shoving his way closer. A glint of metal flashing in the sunlight caught my eye as he raised his chopping knife above his head and shouted angrily.

In a split-second decision, I reached out and grabbed the boy as he ran past, shoving him down behind the strawberry stall. Leaning in close, I whispered, "Stay still and don't make a sound, or you're dead." His face paled beneath the layer of dirt and he nodded vigorously, terror shining in his wide eyes.

I straightened and stepped out in front of the stall, examining the strawberries once more.

"You there!" the man yelled as he stepped clear of the crowd. I knew he was speaking to me, but I carried on with my business, producing another small bag to fill with strawberries. "Hey, you red-haired bitch, I'm talking to you!"

A chill ran down my spine as my old fighting instincts flared to life. My fingers flexed, ready to grip the hilt of a sword that I could no longer summon. Slowly, I turned to face the livid man. He wore an apron that was once white, but now so stained with grease and oil that it just looked dingy and gray. His cheeks were splotchy and red, his breathing heavy. Beads of sweat were already rolling down his face.

He was no fighter.

"You seem to have something to say to me," I said cordially. My cool smile let just enough of my icy fury seep through that the crowd began to shift uncomfortably as they looked on in curiosity.

"I ain't got time to waste on you, filthy woman. Where'd the kid go? He came this way, a mangy little brat what's already half dead. Where is he?" He took a step closer in what was meant to be a menacing gesture.

"I can't imagine what a big man like you, carrying a knife no less, would want with a child."

He reached to grab me with the hand that wasn't holding the knife. "Don't play dumb, you big-breasted whore!"

Before he had a chance to touch me, I stepped into motion. One simple jab to the wrist and his knife was in my possession, pressed against his meaty neck. "Don't. Touch me," I intoned in a cold voice. "And don't ever call me or anyone else a bitch, filthy, or a whore ever again, or I'll happily remove your tongue." The knife shifted to press against the corner of his mouth.

His eyes widened in shock and fear. He was still frozen in the same position he'd been in when he moved to grab me, unable to process everything that had happened in the blink of an eye. "W-Who are you?" he stuttered, his voice cracking as he licked his lips nervously.

I pressed the knife more firmly against his skin, causing him to shrink back in fear. "I think it's time for you to leave. Return to your business and forget about the boy. If I see you disrespecting another person again…your head will roll." I lowered the knife and backed up a few steps, watching him gulp and clutch his throat. Deciding that he wasn't quite scared enough, I spun his knife around my fingers a few times, getting a feel for it—the blade wasn't balanced for fighting, but it was sharp—and then let it fly from my fingertips. Men and women screamed in the crowd as the man fell heavily to the ground, shielding his face with his hands.

"Please! Spare me! I promise I'll respect all my customers from now on! I have a wife and children to feed! You can't kill me!" He continued to shriek pitifully while the crowd quieted down. Finally realizing that he was still alive, he cautiously peeked through his fingertips. His gaze traveled down to the hilt of the knife standing straight up in the air, kept in place by the blade embedded firmly in between two cobblestones. The blade was perfectly between his feet, inches away from where he had fallen. A telltale puddle was seeping across the stones towards the blade, soaking the man's pants.

Even redder than before, the humiliated man grabbed his knife in a trembling hand and pulled. It took him five tries to free the blade from the street, and then he nearly tripped over himself in his haste to flee.

Murmurs swept through the crowd as people looked at me with a mixture of awe and horror. I turned my back on all of them and came around to crouch before the boy who was still huddled behind the strawberry stand. The old peddler had retreated when the angry man approached, and now he watched me from a doorway with fear in his eyes.

"What are you?" he stammered.

"The hands of death," I muttered, just loud enough for him to hear. He paled and looked as if he would faint. "But don't worry," I added with a bitter twist to my lips, "it's not your time." Then I turned to the small child at my feet. I crouched down so that we were on the same level, and then I gazed into his eyes. They were dark and ringed with bags and shadows that didn't belong on a face so young, and yet there was a sparkle in his eyes that gave me hope that he might yet find a better life for himself.

"Clean yourself up," I said authoritatively. He blinked in shock, clearly not expecting that. "No one will ever bother to look past the dirt to see your potential. If you continue on this course, you'll wind up dead in an alley." Ignoring the way he cringed and pulled into himself, I pressed on. "You're, what, nine years old? Make an honest living for yourself and you might live another nine years."

"Ten." The word was so quiet I thought I might have imagined it. Then I realized he was telling me his age. He was a small, malnourished child, but with that spark of life in him, he could make it. That one word was all I needed.

I stood and looked around, glaring at everyone who still cast glances in my direction. They hastily hurried on their way, carrying on with the bustle of the market so that no one would ever know anything out of the ordinary had happened here. Then I glanced back down at the boy. "There's a fishing skiff down by the harbor with an old fisherman looking to take on an extra hand. Get cleaned up and run on down. He's promised a share of the catch and a small wage to whoever he hires."

The boy's face lit up, revealing a couple missing teeth. "Thank you, Miss! I won't forget what you said to me!" And with that, he bounded off with his loaf of bread, disappearing into the crowd once more.

I shook my head slowly and smiled ruefully to myself. It had already been a month after Ultear bought my freedom with her own life. Jellal, Gray, Lucy and I had been traveling around ever since, making our way gradually southeast until we arrived at the coast. This was our first week in this little town, and while it was bustling with activity, it was almost…too predictable. I'd learned how to navigate the busy market on our first day here, and from one end of the town to the other was only a twenty-minute walk. This little skirmish was the first semblance of excitement I'd experienced since arriving here five days ago.

And it had awakened my old killer instinct that had been dormant since I was imprisoned. It wasn't often these days that I felt empty without my magic, but occasionally I felt that familiar stirring of helplessness from my imprisonment. This was one of those times. While I still had my skills with weaponry, I now had to rely on physical weaponry, the same as everyone else. I couldn't summon weapons and armor and various other tools the way I was used to, and I wasn't sure how to cope. I was still getting used to having to prepare myself beforehand if I needed special tools or clothes. It made me uneasy.

Scooping up the sack of flour and my basket, both of which I'd set aside the moment the man accosted me, I made my way back to the inn we were currently staying at. Thankfully, none of the eggs had cracked in the commotion.

Instead of heading up to our room, I moved toward the kitchen in the back, calling out a greeting to the tavern keeper as I passed. The cooks had all grown quite fond of me, and when I mentioned wanting to bake something for Lucy for her birthday, they had eagerly offered to help me. So here I was, preparing to bake something for the first time in my life. Lucy was out job-hunting and wouldn't be back 'til late, and Gray was off looking for more permanent accommodations. As for Jellal, he was out getting information on the whereabouts of the remaining ex-circus performers, compiling a list so that he could keep track of their movements and monitor them. He'd left two days ago, and we didn't expect him back for at least another week. The Council hadn't assigned him the task, but it was something we had all agreed on as a preemptive measure in case we needed to contact anyone. Jellal's mistrust of the Council also factored into his motives, since he didn't trust them not to secretly try to wipe the ex-performers all out. After all, without all of our magic bound, we were like sitting ducks.

Confident that I could produce a cake I could be proud of before the others got home, I greeted the cooks and set about baking a strawberry cake under their supervision.

The door closing followed by the thud of a bag hitting the ground notified me of Lucy's arrival. Gray had arrived not half an hour ago, and was sitting on the lone couch in the main room. As for me…I was standing in the small dining room with the cake on the table in front of me, partially hidden from view by the half-wall dividing the main room from the dining room.

"Gray! You're back early," Lucy remarked cheerfully, joining him on the sofa. "How did it go? Did you find a nice place?"

I heard the telltale sound of the couple kissing before Gray answered. "Mm, I think I found a nice little place up on the bluff that you might like."

"Wonderful! I can't wait to see it! And guess what? I found a job at the library!"

Lucy had immediately fallen in love with the small town upon arriving here, so much so that she had announced her intention to settle down here, provided she could find a job. Well, now it looked like she would be staying here. A warm smile lit my face as I heard my closest friend celebrating her good news with the man she loved.

"That's great, Lucy! It's a perfect job for you. I knew you would get a job quickly, since you're so smart." More kissing ensued, and I fought the urge to clear my throat. Gray was supposed to direct her towards where I was standing, so that she could see her cake.

I sighed. It was times like this when I missed Jellal the most. His solid, dependable sense of duty, his serious yet romantic personality…and the playful side of him that would occasionally surface. I missed his smile, his warmth.

Gray's voice snapped me back into the present. "So, Lucy…are you hungry?"

I heard them stand up as Gray led the confused blonde into my field of vision. She hadn't noticed me yet. Then I turned on the light and stepped out from behind the table. "Happy birthday, Lucy."

"Erza!" she gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. "Oh my goodness, did you make that cake?! It looks exquisite! I didn't know you could bake!" She threw herself at me and wrapped her arms tightly around my waist.

Chuckling, I hugged her back. "Would you believe me if I told you this cake was my first ever attempt at baking?"

She stepped back with watery eyes, smiling softly. "You always did have a knack for picking things up on your first try."

Gray joined us as I cut three even pieces. The three of us talked and laughed as we ate our cake, relaxing in the main room. The other two sat on the sofa while I occupied the one chair across from it. The shortage of seating arrangements had so far never been a problem due to Jellal's absence. And with Lucy and Gray planning on settling down here…they'd soon have a place of their own. Of course, we'd be staying here until Jellal returned, but after that…I didn't have a plan.

After we finished our cake, Gray told Lucy he had a present for her. Curious, she followed him to the door. I watched them as they left the room, smiling reassuringly at Lucy as she glanced over her shoulder at me as she closed the door behind her. Whatever his present was, I was sure it would be perfect. In fact, I had a hunch that I knew what it was.

Gathering everyone's empty plates, I took them to the sink and washed them. With nothing else to do, I wandered into the second of two bedrooms in our quarters. The sun was already setting, casting a purple stain on the sky. Thinking about all the plans I didn't have for my future, I leaned wearily against the window frame and gazed out at the sky. It was so vast, so limitless, that I felt utterly insignificant. But I knew that somewhere out there, a certain blue-haired mercenary was looking up at the same sky. The thought brought a small smile to my lips.

Movement from down below caught my attention. Looking down into the small courtyard in the open center of the inn, I saw Gray lead Lucy by the hand onto the gray cobblestones. Knowing I should probably turn away to give them their privacy, I was nonetheless rooted to my spot. They stopped in the center of the courtyard, next to the stone fountain. The lights in the courtyard flickered on at that exact moment, and Lucy looked around in awe. Rose petals had carefully been scattered in the water of the fountain, drifting lazily around.

And then Gray got down on one knee. A strange prickling sensation began behind my eyes, and I turned away at last. Letting myself fall face-up on the bed, I gazed unseeingly at the ceiling. It was a soft beige, peeling in places. A thin crack threaded across the left side, hugging the wall. A tired, humorless smile lifted my lips.

"I don't know what I'm doing," I muttered to myself, turning onto my side. What am I supposed to do here? It's a lovely town, but…it's not right for me. Is there even a place for me? I wondered. No doubt I could probably land a job in a bakery with a little more training, but something about the idea just felt empty.

Thinking back to the unusual encounter today in the marketplace, I wondered idly if the boy had been able to get the job with the fisherman. Something about the whole skirmish still bothered me though. The butcher or whatever he was had come at me with a knife. I'd had no weapons with which to defend myself. As one whose primary fighting abilities lay with a weapon, the only choice in my mind had been to disarm the man and use his knife for myself. It hadn't even been a proper dagger. I clenched my fist in frustration. What was I without a weapon? What was I without my magic? Just another helpless civilian.

If I had truly left the circus behind me, I wouldn't be thinking this way. I wouldn't feel incomplete without a weapon on me at all times. I would be pursuing an honest living, like Lucy. A single tear slid down my temple and soaked into the blanket. "Curse you, Zeref," I whispered. "Even when you're gone, you still control my life. You've ruined me."

But that wasn't exactly true, either. Zeref…you're still out there, aren't you? I can feel it. And as long as you exist…I will never be able to live. That was the one certain thing in my life. The circus had physically been destroyed, but it still lived on. It was here, inside of me. It lived in Lucy. And it lived on in the one who had created it.

And I wouldn't rest until the Suicide Circus was laid to rest once and for all.

A/N: Thank you for reading! I hope you'll continue to follow along with this story. :)